


Summer Lovin'

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash, PWP, magic fingers too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:59:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On hot lazy summer days, Charlie hides in her girlfriend's basement and plays video games or reads comic books with her all day long. But sometimes, they do other things, too, and Charlie definitely doesn't mind that at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

> I regret NOTHING. ;)

“So, Sam’s out with some friends and I can’t find dad anywhere,” Dean says when she gets back to the basement – also known as her room, as she claimed it when she was fourteen – a glass of fresh orange juice in each hand. She places them both on the table and her eyes travel to Charlie lying on Dean’s bed, nose buried in an issue of Hulk. 

“M-hm,” Charlie murmurs and rolls over onto her stomach. 

_She looks delicious_ , Dean thinks as she looks her up and down. Well, Charlie always looks delicious.

But especially like this; in boy shorts, blue tank top, and her hair in a messy ponytail. For what might be the thousandth time ever, Dean thanks all Gods that she got so lucky that a girl as perfect as Charlie thought Dean was worth her time.

“And, well, you know,” Dean continues and brushes her longish brown hair out of her face, “That means we’re alone. And you know what I’m talking about here, don’t you?”

Charlie finally looks up at her with a grin and a raised eyebrow. “I’d say you’re trying to get laid in a rather lame way, correct?”

Dean shrugs. She kicks off her flip-flops (she’d seriously never admit to wearing them in public, though, it’s just that it’s too hot to wear anything else these days) on her way to her bed. She sits down, her hips pressing against Charlie’s side. “Yeah, correct.”

Dean knows she’s won this one when Charlie tosses the Hulk issue off the bed and rolls back onto her back, holding herself up on her elbows. The grin on her face just wouldn’t leave. “So what do I win?”

Dean’s fingers find their way to the hem of Charlie’s shorts and tug at it. “Well, obviously,” she says and then she smirks, “you get to get laid as well. Win-win situation, actually, I think.”

Charlie rolls her eyes and snorts. “Sounds like the worst porn I’ve ever seen, you know?” she teases her and catches Dean’s fingers in hers, pulling her closer.

“You don’t get to judge me,” Dean remarks and finally, being closer to Charlie, she pecks her lips playfully. “I still remember the things you said when we hooked up for the first time. Want me to remind you?” 

Charlie makes a grimace and shakes her head. “Please, don’t.” There’s even a slight blush covering her cheeks as she says so. 

Dean chuckles and her fingers still teasingly gripping the hem of Charlie’s shorts, she finally leans closer and connects their lips. Charlie had Pringles before and Dean can feel the salt on her lips; she licks it off, her tongue examining Charlie’s upper lip first and then moving to the lower one. Her eyes flutter close when her own saliva wets Charlie’s dry mouth.

Charlie breathes out through her nose, the air hitting Dean’s face, warm and intimate. Her lips still pressed against Dean’s in a simple kiss, she shifts on the bed to make more room for Dean – she pulls her closer, then, the tugging on Dean’s Iron Man shirt urgent and persistent.

Dean goes willingly, covering half of Charlie’s body with her own. She’s careful not to smash her with her weight, but she lets out a relieved sigh when their breasts meet, and Dean wants Charlie _right here_ and _right now_ , thank you. She’s consumed by her own want, her fingers finally leaving Charlie’s shorts and moving up, slipping underneath her tank top, running over the smooth skin of her belly.

Dean doesn’t need to open her eyes to see the exact color of Charlie’s skin, to recognize the birthmark right next to her belly button. Those images are burnt into her brain like the finest knowledge and she likes it that way.

Charlie opens her mouth in an invitation, only the smallest movement to provide the affirmation that _yes_ , it is okay to breathe Charlie in now, it is okay to take as much as Dean wants.

And Dean does. She buries her tongue in the welcoming warmth of Charlie’s mouth, and she does so easily and quickly. She’s done this countless times, but it always tastes like fresh fruit, and it also always tastes like Charlie and Dean would never want to run away from that.

Her hands are busy rolling up Charlie’s tank top by now, impatient and in a hurry. Charlie presses her body against Dean’s, firm and strong, and Dean loves every little bit of it. Finally, she pulls away so Charlie can sit up and the awful tank top can finally be removed. Dean is tempted to go for Charlie’s mouth again, but then, she spots that damn birthmark on Charlie’s belly and she always has to go for that one first.

As soon as Dean’s tongue circles around Charlie’s belly button, Charlie arches her back. It doesn’t take Dean long to realize Charlie did so mainly to undo her bra, and she almost hits Dean in the face when she takes it off.

She giggles, red in the face. “Sorry,” she utters and receives a smile from Dean instead of a verbal response. 

Dean positions herself between Charlie’s legs and moves her tongue up Charlie’s belly. Her hair, usually reaching her shoulders, now tickles Charlie’s sides and looks like a sateen curtain. 

She cups Charlie’s left breast in her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Her mouth closes around the skin right under the breast, her tongue tasting the skin there. It’s what she loves the most. It tastes like Charlie’s perfume, but there’s sweat mixed in it and it’s so very _Charlie_ Dean almost doesn’t manage to hold back a moan. It gets stuck somewhere in her mouth while she cherishes her most favorite taste in the whole world.

She goes back to Charlie’s mouth then, combining both tastes as if curious what that would be like, while her free hand travels down to Charlie’s shorts. It’s not teasing this time; Dean finds her way into Charlie’s panties rather quickly, feeling the little precious triangle of hair rub against her palm as she goes even further, knowing precisely what she’ll find there.

“De- _an_ ,” Charlie mumbles into her girlfriend’s mouth, spreading her legs ever so slightly. She knows she’s wet – she’s been wet ever since Dean’s tongue touched her skin, really. And when Dean’s forefinger presses against her clit, gently, Charlie’s fingers wrap around Dean’s forearm and she accidentally bites down on Dean’s lip, enough for it to sting.

And then Dean’s hand is gone and – Charlie lets out a groan, pressing her cheek against Dean’s pillow. “Why do you _always_ have to do this to me?”

Dean smirks down at her, almost proud. “Because you look very beautiful when you’re impatient.”

“I hope I’ll look beautiful while killing you,” Charlie acclaims and even though she _is_ impatient, she looks up at Dean and takes her time to do the best puppy eyes she can manage… but she knows that’s not necessary.

Once again, Dean’s fingers tug at the hem of Charlie’s shorts. It takes Charlie a nanosecond – or less, maybe – to get the hint. She holds herself up while Dean takes off her shorts, and then her panties. She does so slowly and Charlie really feels like killing her by the time she’s running her hands up Charlie’s thighs.

Charlie feels vulnerable for a moment; her legs spread, her cheeks flushed, naked. But then Dean smiles at her and Charlie slips back into normal and she knows this is a safe place to be. In the end, Dean’s hands are warm and loving and so is her expression. And Charlie knows that if something happens - _when_ something happens – it will be just to make her feel good. She lets herself relax.

Dean could marvel at Charlie’s body for hours, to be honest, but she doesn’t. The dark-brown of Charlie’s pubic hair stands out in comparison to her flaming red hair and Dean smiles when she notices once again. 

She feels like she should say something, but she doesn’t know what the words would be and she doesn’t know if it would mean anything at all, so she stays silent. They exchange one more look before Dean’s palms cover Charlie’s hipbones and she, with her tongue out already, makes her move.

Dean’s tongue presses against Charlie’s clit in almost the same way her fingers did just minutes ago. For both of them, though, it’s a completely different sensation. 

It’s nothing like Dean’s favorite taste in the whole world, but she still loves it. She’s learned to love it. There were times she could not imagine herself doing this, but hands down, things have changed since she first met Charlie. They are better now, and not just when it comes to sex – Dean as a person is doing better now that she’s got Charlie by her side. 

Charlie moans, a soft sound, quiet so nobody could hear it, it barely reaches Dean’s ears. Dean moves her tongue, in a steady up-and-down rhythm. Charlie’s fingers are soon buried in Dean’s hair, making a mess of it.

Dean caresses Charlie’s hip, moves her hand down her thigh. Dean runs her fingers over Charlie’s pussy, wherever she can reach, and then she proceeds to push her forefinger inside. Charlie’s hips jerk at that, and she shivers when Dean starts moving her tongue in circles. 

She doesn’t press it, doesn’t add another finger – she knows this will do. She knows this is what Charlie likes – and the sounds Charlie makes at the back of her throat are enough of a proof. 

She barely moves her finger, a very slight in and out movement is all she’s doing while her tongue works on Charlie’s clit. Her chin is covered in Charlie’s juices and it feels _good_ to know she’s capable of bringing someone this much pleasure.

“Dee,” Charlie breathes out, not much of a warning, right before she comes, the muscle squeezing around Dean’s forefinger. Dean never stops moving her tongue, knowing it drives Charlie crazy, enjoying the way Charlie is slowly becoming a writhing mess right in her hands.

Even though Dean’s the one in control right now, when Charlie’s hips jerk many times in a row and Charlie pulls at Dean’s hair roughly, she knows it’s probably time to stop. “Oh God, I – I can’t, please – “

Dean’s tongue circles around Charlie’s clit one more time, and Charlie’s hips jerk one more time, and then it is – unfortunately – over.

Charlie is breathing heavily when Dean settles next to her with a satisfied grin on her face. 

She’s just about to stuff her hand down her own panties to finish this unfinished business when Charlie finally collects herself and presses close to Dean’s side, her hand resting on Dean’s belly. Her naked body sends waves of body heat and Dean can feel it through her clothes. She wants to get lost in it.

Charlie is somewhat tired, her hand lazily making its way to Dean’s pussy. Charlie makes a little sound when she finally gets there, and Dean is embarrassed for a second there because boy, she is _really_ wet. Her heart is pounding up in her throat and she’s afraid Charlie can hear it – and no, it won’t take all that long to make her come.

Charlie’s fingers move, Dean’s clit trapped between her middle finger and her forefinger for a second, and she wants to scream because it feels that good. She can still taste Charlie on her tongue, she consumes her with every swallow.

Charlie presses her lips against the skin on Dean’s neck, just below her earlobe, and soon enough, she pokes out her tongue and begins to suck. 

All those things brought together – Charlie’s mouth, Charlie’s naked body right next to her, Charlie’s fingers moving over Dean’s clit, experts in the matter – are easily too much for Dean to handle. She does get lost eventually in all the touch, and soon, with her lips slightly ajar and with her eyes closed, she comes, her hips jerking, her pussy rubbing against Charlie’s wet palm.

When the universe regains its balance again and Dean can see straight, Charlie pulls her hand out of Dean’s panties and bites down on her lip. Dean almost expects some sort of an obscene gesture – seeing Charlie lick off whatever Dean had left on her palm would definitely be _the_ perfect sight – but Charlie just ruins Dean’s sheets by drying her hand against them. 

Dean laughs, because _of course_ Charlie would do that, and shakes her head. “Sam’s going to make fun of me again,” she comments when she’s reminded of the hickey on her neck – it hurts a little, blood thumping through the hurt spot. 

“Totally worth it?” Charlie offers.

“Totally worth it,” Dean confirms, sighing happily.

“I don’t like your clothes,” Charlie comments after a few seconds. “Let’s get naked, take a shower together, and watch X-Men?” she suggests in the most innocent of voices. 

Dean narrows her eyes, as if considering it. “Will we still be naked when we watch the movie?” she asks in the end.

“Why, of course.”

“Well, then I’m in,” Dean acclaims and Charlie lets out a “yay!” as she manages to climb off of the bed and starts walking towards Dean’s bathroom, confident as ever. Dean gets up and before she follows Charlie into the bathroom, she notices the previously abandoned glasses of orange juice. 

She’s almost sad to take a sip, because it washes Charlie’s taste away from her mouth. But she’ll get it back later, she’s sure.

And damn, does she love afternoons like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://viviansface.livejournal.com/34250.html) on my LJ; comment wherever you prefer (because comments are love, aren't they?) :)


End file.
